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The Highlanders
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...and in the end... there can be only one.
Uomo
89 anni
the Higlands, Scotland
Regno Unito
Ultimo accesso: 15.07.2008
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The Highlanders: Interessi
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| Generale | Finding a way back to our homeland. In the meantime though playing kickball and drinking beer will suffice! | | Musica | Bagpipes, Bagpipes, and more Bagpipes, the symphony of warfare (catapults and trebuchets firing flaming diseased horses over the castle walls, broad swords and claymores slashing and crushing, the wisk sound of archers shooting thousands of flaming arrows on the English etc...) | | Film | Braveheart, Highlander, Trainspotting, Mary Queen of Scots | | Eroi | William Wallace, Annie Lennox, John Knox, King James I, Ewan McGregor, Johnie Walker, Ian Fleming, St. Andrew |
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The Highlanders: Dettagli
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The Highlanders: Scuole
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University of St Andrews
Fife, United Kingdom
Diplomato: 2007
Stato studente: Ex alunno
Diploma: Ph.D.
Major: Kickball
Materia secondaria: Medieval Philosophy
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2006 per 2007 |
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The Highlanders: Ultimo intervento
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GAME TWO: He's a Magic Man, Mama
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FESTIVAL OF LOSERS!
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Tshirts
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Saturdays Game
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| [Visualizza tutti gli interventi] |
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The Highlanders: parlo di me |
Chi sono:
Our story begins in the remote highlands of Scotland. A clan lay hidden from the rest of the world, completely isolated from society. Our life was simple then. We farmed, we drank, we fought, we drank more…This was the life of our people for the past millennium; Uninterrupted, perfect.
One foggy foreboding evening our lives were turned upside down. I smelled a change in the air as I sharpened my claymore and patched my kilt that very afternoon…If only I had known what was about to occur. The evening settled upon us quickly. The air was thick as I kissed my wife goodnight.
There was a flash of lightning and a commotion in the distance. I rushed out to see a band of soothsayers – magic men of sorts – heading straight for me. They chanted in unison words unfamiliar to me…words that will haunt my thoughts for eternity…Presto Bitch, Presto Bitch…
Our warriors gathered for battle, but their powers were strong. I watched my brother lose his head at the tip of their devil swords. My rage gave me strength and I finished them off one by one. Those of us who had kept our heads celebrated with soup made from the bones of the enemy. We thought all was well, but when we went to sharpen our claymores the next afternoon, they were gone. Vanished as quickly as the magic men had appeared. All of our prized possessions were gone, replaced by the enchanted bouncing spheres of our enemy.
As our ancestors had done a millennium before, we knew it was time to move on. Voices penetrated our thoughts from the grave…’Play, play, play…’ they whispered unceasingly…It was as if we had been placed under a spell.
So play we did and will continue to do. We are and will forever be warriors of the field. The field has changed, but our determination has not. We are warriors…We are…THE HIGHLANDERS.
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